


Closure

by GuiltyFurry



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-11-18 18:30:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11296353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuiltyFurry/pseuds/GuiltyFurry
Summary: Set in an early True Pacifist run, Toriel arrives to save Frisk just as planned. But when nobody else shows up, she turns on Asgore and lets out decades of anger in an argument that she never got to have with him. But the truth isn't what she had expected, and now she must learn about the past to make amends in the future





	1. Same/Different

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just before Asgore and Frisk clash, Toriel arrives to save the child. You know how this story goes already, except something has changed: a flower makes a deal with a skeleton.

“Human…” The king looked to the young creature in front of him, suppressing his true emotions. “It was nice meeting you. Goodbye.”

Frisk’s shoulders sank with their heart; they couldn’t convince the giant to show mercy. It wasn’t their fault though, or his. They knew exactly why he needed to fight, whether they agreed or not. They felt a familiar tingle flow through their body one more time, as their SOUL appeared on their chest.

King Asgore lowered his head; he could not look into their eyes anymore. Had they seen his face now, they would surely see the tears in the corners of his eyes and the quivering of his lips. This battle would decide the fate of the underground, but Asgore was despondent. Must I take the life of yet another child? he thought. One that has done no harm to my people- nay, helped them more than I ever could? And they looked so much like his own child, from so long ago. The one that had fallen as well…

Now was the time for action. The king would fight for his people, and the child would show him mercy for his people’s sake.

**_CRASH!_ **

Both monster and human turned to the near-deafening noise. Something had burst through a wall into the room. Flames burned on the loose mortar. Dust flew up into the air and fell towards the ground while smoke rose from the flames to the roof. A faint silhouette stood in the grey shroud, waiting in the breach. The two opponents leaned towards the stranger, attempting to discern their identity.

A fireball shot out from the curtain of smoke, piercing it like a bullet. Asgore’s eyes widened as the missile grew closer, and he grunted as it struck him square in the chest. The king flew several feet before collapsing on the ground. His cape was around his horns in a tangled mess, the fabric that once rested on his front now singed. He lifted himself to one knee, ripping the cloth from his shoulders without a care and tossing it aside, and beheld the intruder.

Toriel stood in the breach, her face full of animosity towards her target. She entered the room, her strides slow and calculated. Embers flew around her as she passed, making her look more radiant and ethereal than ever before. The only sounds in the room were the light crackling of fires, Asgore’s panting, Toriel’s footsteps, and the subtle thrum of the barrier between the underground and the over-world.

“What a miserable creature, torturing such a poor, innocent youth…” For all of the fire at her command, Toriel’s voice was cold as ice. Her eyes shot daggers at the man on his knees, lingering for several moments before she turned towards the human. Frisk had been watching the events unfold without any expression. Their SOUL still glowed on their chest, beating rapidly.

“Do not be afraid, my child. It is I, Toriel, your friend and guardian.” Toriel’s body shifted, and suddenly she was a mother again, her tone warm and sincere. Her arms lifted slightly, and Frisk ran into them, embracing the monster around her waist. Even through her robes and fur, the child felt cold on Toriel’s body, but comforting all the same.

She could feel their anxiety, their joy and trepidation in their strong grip. She felt the weight of their entire journey upon the child’s shoulders, and it made her weep.

“At first,” she began, placing her hands around the child, “I thought I would let you make your journey alone… but I could not stop worrying about you. Your adventure must have been so treacherous… and ultimately, it would burden you with a horrible choice.”

“Tori…”

She ignored the man behind her and continued. “To leave this place, you would have to take the life of another person. You would have to defeat Asgore. However… I realized…” Her tears fell softly onto the human’s head, but they paid no mind. “I cannot allow that. It is not right to sacrifice someone simply to let someone leave here.

“Is that not what I have been trying to prevent all this time? So…” She said this more to herself than to anyone else. She looked up at nothing in particular, reflecting on so many things at once; her time in the ruins; the humans that had passed through her home; when she was still queen and when her people looked up to her. The faces of her children.

Toriel snapped back to attention and smiled at the human. “For now, let us suspend this battle.” She dried her eyes and offered the child a smile. She leaned in a bit before saying rather loudly, “As terrible as Asgore is… He deserves mercy too.”

The king stood up, blinking away his own tears. “Tori…” he mumbled. The corners of his lips curled up, and then his face alighted into pure joy. “You came back!” He practically ran to his ex-wife, arms outstretched to hold her close.

“Do not “Tori” me, Dreemurr!” Asgore stopped in his tracks. His face dropped immediately; he looked as if he’d been stabbed in the gut. Maybe it was the steel in her words or the stare she used to look on him; all he could feel from Toriel was hatred and anger in his direction. Frisk still clung to her, now hiding behind her robes from his sight. Asgore’s shoulders slumped; his knees gave in slightly; his head hung low once again.

“You pathetic whelp,” she said, much more quietly than before. Her eyes were unfocused, trying to find something to look at near his feet instead of his face. “If you really wanted to free our kind, you could have gone through the barrier after you got ONE SOUL, taken six SOULs from the humans, then come back and freed everyone peacefully.”

Not a day had gone by when Asgore didn’t have that thought. One SOUL was all he needed to gain incredible power, enough to wipe out any human he came across. He could have rescued his people with less bloodshed, and less innocence lost. But he was a coward, and deep down he was a pacifist. If only Toriel knew, that all of the children-

“But instead, you made everyone live in despair…” Malice was etched into every line of her beautiful face, focused now entirely on him. “Because you would rather wait here, meekly hoping another human never comes.” He turned away. Tears fell freely from his scrunched up face, as Toriel threw truth after truth at him. He was shaken to the core, struggling to find the right words to respond.

“…Tori…” He faltered, choking back a sob. “…you’re right. I am a miserable creature.” He paused again. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything else. Toriel would not listen to him, it was clear. He desperately wanted her back. He wanted his whole family back. Only one thing passed through his mind. He turned back, sniffled, and put on a weak smile.

“But do you think we can at least be friends again?”

Toriel sighed heavily. “No, Asgore.”

* * *

 

“What the hell is this green crap?!” Undyne was furious at the vines blocking her path. “How do vines even grow in an elevator shaft?!”

“U-um, I’m not really sure…” Alphys shuffled on the spot, trying to come up with a plan.

“That’s it!” Undyne summoned her spear and hacked into the thick vines, tearing away piece after piece.

“I’ve got your back!” Papyrus apparated a bone club and started beating the vines away as well.

The two blocked the entrance from Alphys’ view, making her fret even more. It couldn’t be… surely not…

Undyne and Papyrus gave a battle cry together and brought their weapons down one more time. The vines snapped and opened the way forward. The trio cheered and raced on. As they approached a corner, they could hear two voices. All three of them hugged the wall, listening to the strangers in the next room.

“Please, bonehead, hold your friends back for me? I want to see this.” It was a young voice, one befitting a boy, but it sounded equal parts commanding and pleading.

A more familiar voice replied to the stranger. “Why? Why do you care about those two?” The skeleton’s drawl could not have been mistaken for anyone else.

“Because they’re my-” the first voice cut off its shouting. “Because it’s never happened before.”

There was silence for a moment; Papyrus, Undyne and Alphys all looked to one another and prepared to turn the corner, before they heard a deep sigh and paused again. “Alright then. Go.”

Rather than let the stranger get away, Undyne and Papyrus burst around the corner with their weapons at the ready. “Who the hell are-” Undyne’s voice dropped off.

Alphys followed behind the other two. Ahead of her, in the golden corridor and amidst the marble pillars, stood an old friend of hers. “Sans? Wha-what are you doing h-here?”

Undyne and Papyrus looked between the skeleton ahead and the lizard now standing in front of them. “You know Sans?” they blurted out in unison.

“Hey doc,” Sans replied. “Listen, the situation up ahead’s all fine, no one’s getting murdered.” Either he was a convincing liar, or Sans was completely calm. Either way, Alphys was still confused.

“But the human? And how did you get here b-before us?”

“Oh he does that all the time,” Papyrus chimed in, a tinge of pride in his voice.

“But what about Asgore! That kid’s gonna-”

Sans cut Undyne off. “I said relax, guys. It’s all under control.” He threw his arms up and shrugged. “Asgore and the kid’ve got a visitor. Let’s give them some time.”


	2. Love/Hate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For years now, Toriel had hated Asgore for everything that he had done to her children. Now it's time for her to hear the truth.

Asgore shifted his gaze between Toriel and the ground, never able to focus on either one for long. His mind whirred with words, but every time he tried to grasp one, it slipped away. The silence between them grew until it was almost smothering his thoughts. Should he tell a joke? Apologize again? What could he say, what could he do?

“Oh my goodness!” His own voice startled him as much as it startled Toriel. “I haven’t asked yet, how rude of me. Would you care for some tea?” He offered her yet another smile, trying desperately to diffuse the tension in the room. Toriel’s face slowly dropped, her shock being replaced with a scowl. Her eyes shot daggers through his heart.

“Asgore… what is wrong with you?” Toriel shook her head, as she attempted to understand what he was asking. Asgore’s smile strained, his eyebrows furrowed in pain. What a stupid thing to have asked her, after what she had just said. His body slouched, head dropped into his hands.

“I know,” he replied, “that was not smart. I just thought-”

“How could you be so dense?” Toriel did not let up her verbal assault. “I came here for the child, to protect them from you. Before you killed them.” Asgore lifted his head and looked into her face, brimming with pain and wrath. He did not understand, but before he could ask what she meant, she continued. “How could you offer me tea when you butchered all of the children that came before them- my children?!” Tears spilled from the corners of her eyes, staining her fur in a darker shade of white.

Asgore spent several moments processing her accusations. He lifted himself up, stood tall before his ex-wife. “How…” she muttered under her breath. Her lips shook. Her whole body shook. She stifled a whimper and stared him in the eyes. “How?!” She screamed, finally losing her composure.

He studied her face, a face he’d once known so well: her beautiful lips hung open now in an ugly grimace, quivering with unsolicited emotions. Her snout, once perfect and unblemished, was now lined with creases, and her nostrils flared angrily. The streaks of tears on her cheeks had run down her face, leaving trails of grey in their wake. Every new tear thickened the paths that they followed.

And her eyes. Her gorgeous eyes that he once stared into every night. To the untrained viewer, her eyes appeared jet black, but only Asgore knew that Toriel’s eyes were the deepest, darkest shade of red that he had ever know, like garnets in the faint light of dusk. In those eyes he saw some of his most precious memories: their first kiss, the first time they made love, the joy they shared as parents. Now the corners of her eyes were wrinkled, and they appeared puffy and red. It broke his heart, just as it had the last time he saw them.

“Toriel.” He inhaled deeply, putting on his bravest visage. His voice wavered in spite of his image. “I don’t understand what you mean. I never killed any children.”

Toriel reeled back, almost knocking over Frisk in the process but she had forgotten the child was standing behind her. Asgore watched her face run through many emotions: at first she looked horrified. Then she looked around the room as if something was calling her. She looked back to the king, confused. Finally her face scrunched up once more with an anger he had never witnessed before.

“You liar!” She cried out, spraying flecks of spittle on his feet. “How could you look me in the eyes and lie, you hideous creature?!” Her arm flung out in front of her as if to cut him down. Asgore stood tall, his face devoid of emotion. Inside he was torn apart, but he knew that he must reason with Toriel before he could feel sorry for himself again.

“It is no lie. I never harmed any of the children that fell into the Underground.” He looked her in the eyes as he spoke, his sagely voice full of authority. He made a move to walk forwards.

“Don’t you dare!” From the palm of Toriel’s hand grew a flower of fire. It rose and grew until it was the size of a fist, and more balls of fire emerged from it, dancing around one another. She stepped back and snarled at Asgore. “Stay away from us!” she threatened. Instead, Asgore took a step forward.

She thrust her hands towards him, spewing fire from her palms. The three balls of fire levitated above her as she engulfed the king in flames. She wept as she stood there, unable to see him anymore. It was many moments before she finally stopped her assault, looked upon the spot that Asgore had occupied, and let out an ugly wail.

The wall of flames crackled angrily on the spot but never spread. The heat blasted Toriel’s face, stinging her eyes as she cried. She closed them for a while, but looked back on the fire when she heard a thud within. Before her, Asgore walked out of the flames without any inconvenience. His whole body smoked, and many tips in his hair and beard glowed as they smoldered. He looked down at her, his face hard as stone. With a whimper, she dropped to the floor, defeated.

"Toriel..." How many times had he hoped for a chance to meet her once more, to speak to her? She never returned his calls, insistent as he was. Not in his wildest dreams had he thought to meet her under these terms; however it was not up to him to decide the finer points of his confession.

He took another step towards the monster, but a figure emerged between them. The human stood their ground between the grieving mother and melancholy father, arms outstretched in either direction. Frisk darted their head back and forth, remaining deathly silent. Current and ex-royalty observed the child, both dumbfounded by the development.

Asgore's passage was blocked by the tiny human, and Toriel's quiet sobs echoed through the chamber. Frisk lowered their arms, walked towards the mother, and wrapped their arms around her neck. She smiled at the human, and cradled them in her arms. She was reluctant to let Frisk go, but the human tugged away from her.

They turned towards the larger monster, still watching his guests. Frisk approached him cautiously, and stood before him. They wrapped their arms around his shins, almost knocking the king over. They made no move to stop any time soon.

Asgore was bewildered. This human, whom he had threatened only minutes ago, offered him compassion. His only response was to lower his hand and pat the human on the head. He was only aware of the soft chuckle that he made after he had made it. He looked back up to Toriel, now picking herself up from the floor. She, too, was astonished by the display of affection.

Frisk let go of the monster's legs and turned back around. They stood in front of him and leered at Toriel. Asgore took the chance to speak, as Toriel made no motion to start talking.

"Please, listen to me Toriel. I did not harm the children." When Toriel did not respond, he put the mirth in her glare out of mind and continued. "Most of them were brought to me, victims on their journey to find their home. I met two of them, and I remember them fondly. Undyne found two more and Gerson another, all too late. My heart wept for every child that wound up upon my doorstep. I could feel the love that you had showed them and the pain you would have felt had you known their fates. I attempted to find you, but the doors were sealed tight. I tried to call you, but the phone would always disconnect. I heard no response from my letters, nor my requests.

"I tried to tell you, Toriel. I knew you would want to know." He gazed upon Toriel's eyes, now weeping freely. In truth, he was not far off from crying, either, but he remained adamant. There were no more words to be said. The room was silent again, save for the thrum of the barrier.

It was Toriel who finally broke the silence. "How can I believe you?" she asked. Asgore was relieved that her response was not to call him a liar once more. He considered her query for some time.

"There are many that you could ask, my dear-"

"Do not call me that." The edge in her voice was sharp enough to make Asgore recoil. He only meant to show her the same compassion the human had shown him, but instead he stepped too far. Before he could feel worse for himself, Toriel continued. "Who do I ask?"

"There are three that know the truth. Save for myself, that is," he added sheepishly. "I would recommend you meet with Undyne, Alphys and Gerson. Each of them helped me with the children and gathering their SOULs." Toriel shuddered at his last words, and he realized that he had made yet another mistake. He wished it would be easier for her to hear the truth.

Toriel closed her eyes, lowered her head, and stood motionless. Frisk made their way back to the mother and leaned against her leg. She put her hand on the child's shoulder, and continued to ponder. Asgore waited with baited breath for her response to his confession.

She did not raise her head to reply. "We shall see, Asgore. I have not forgiven you, nor do I think I ever could. But we shall see." She turned to the blasted wall and made her way to leave, holding on to Frisk's hand along the way. The smoke and dust no longer shrouded them as they exited the room.

Frisk tugged at Toriel's hand just before they disappeared around the corner. They stopped for a moment, looking to Asgore across the room. There was no way to understand the emotion on the child's face; Asgore was apprehensive to find why they paused. His fears were alleviated when Frisk waved to him. He chuckled in spite of his emotions, and waved back.

Then they were gone. Asgore let out a breath he wasn't aware he had been holding. He observed the room: scorch marks painted the neutral floor with an ugly black behind him, while large blocks of stone littered the floor before him. It would take some time to clean and repair the room, so he was very grateful that he was the only person to occupy it.

"ASGORE!"

His attention snapped to the main entrance of the room where four figures now stood. Undyne was the first to run towards him, spear in hand. It was tossed aside before she reached him and jumped into his open arms. "Are you okay? What did that kid do?" She tried to ask more questions, but Asgore knew she was just happy to be held by him.

A tall skeleton appeared next to them. "My liege, are you safe?" He stood there with a sort-of smile on his skull, waiting for the king to respond.

"Yes, I am safe..." The skeleton's name did not come to mind since they had only met once, and that was some time ago. Undyne whispered it in his ear as she let herself out of his embrace, and Asgore smiled down at him. "Thank you, Papyrus." The royal guard-in-training beamed and dispelled the weapon still in his hand.

"A-Asgore!" This voice he recognized, especially with her nervous stutter. Alphys did not run towards him as quickly as the other two had, though she was slightly out of breath. "Who was that just now?"

"Hello Doctor Alphys." He offered her a curt nod before continuing. "That was Toriel and the human."

"The queen?!" All three of the newcomers shouted at once. They began to ask questions rapidly and randomly. The cacophony was only interrupted by a fourth monster.

"C'mon, guys, give the big goat a break." This smaller skeleton was not known to Asgore very well, though he had a strange thought that he may have met him some time ago. "I'm sure he'll tell us the story. Right, Asgore?" The skeleton in the hoodie winked, somehow, at the king.

"Ah, yes, I will... um-"

"Sans."

"Sans. Thank you."

"Don't mention it, just tell the story."

Asgore pondered for a moment. "Actually, why don't we all go back to my house?" The new monsters all agreed quickly, and made their way out of the barrier room. They took note of the black marks and debris on the floor, asking more questions as they walked. "All in good time," Asgore chided, guiding them back to his abode.

Sans glanced at the corner of the room as they exited. No one else had noticed the flower sitting in the corner, a dejected look on its face as it watched the king and his company pass it. The skeleton gave him his trademark perpetual smile, and left the flower alone in the room.

Flowey reflected on the events. They hadn't gotten back together, but this was the closest they had ever come. "Maybe... maybe this timeline could be worth keeping..." As the thoughts turned in his head like gears, he burrowed underground, leaving no trace that he was ever there.


	3. Joy/Despair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has been several weeks since Asgore and Toriel clashed, and the king has hidden himself away. Depression has not hit him this hard in a very long time, but he is visited by an unexpected guest with a night of fun in mind...  
> Meanwhile, Toriel has welcomed guests of her own into her home. They enjoy a cup of tea together, until they are interrupted by the sound of a ringing phone...

_Fwip_.

Asgore turned the to the next page of the photograph album. The cup of tea sitting next to the album was cooling rapidly, but he didn’t seem to notice. He didn’t even remember making it in the first place. He looked down at the photographs on the page and sniffled. It took him many moments to let the images in the book sink in, and many more before he turned the page again.

_Fwip._

The only other sound in the house was the gentle ticking of a clock in the hallway, though Asgore couldn’t hear it. He let out a great big sigh that seemed to echo off the walls, making it sound more like he lived in a cave. Though as he looked around for a moment, noticing the half empty cups of tea he had left lying around, maybe he was closer to living in a cave than a home. Not that that mattered to him anymore.

_Fwip._

His breath caught in his throat. Every photograph he had seen so far had been heartbreaking, but this photograph was always special. It was the first photograph that was ever taken of Chara, the first human that had fallen down. He loved Chara as if they were his own child, and there they stood next to his biological child, Asriel. They were both holding flowers and standing in front of him and their mother, Toriel.

Asgore looked at the photograph for a long time, trying to memorise every little detail that he could. Asriel was excited, even more than he usually was. He loved Chara more than anything in the world, and he was always excited to do new things with them. On the other hand, Chara was bashful and hid their face behind the flowers they were holding. Asriel stood in front of Toriel, whereas Asgore stood with his hands resting on Chara’s shoulders.

Chara had been a bit fonder of Asgore when they were… when they were in the Underground. He still wore his favourite sweater that they knitted for him every now and then, the one with ‘Mr. Dad Guy’ on the front. In fact, he had it on right now. It always made him chuckle; as shy as Chara was, he knew that they were a brilliant human child. Asriel was always keen to learn more about the surface from Chara, or to come up with some new game, or play a daring roleplay of their “ultimate final forms.” The two were inseparable, in life… and in death.

A faint patter brought Asgore back from his reverie. He could feel something warm on his cheek as well, and it took him a few second to realise that he was crying. Another tear dripped onto the page, narrowly missing the photograph. He wiped the tears away to and grabbed a nearby napkin to dry them up; he didn’t want to bring any harm to his precious memories. He couldn’t bear to lose anyone again.

He knew that the following pages would be just as painful. After Chara and Asriel… that memory alone was still too bitter, but remembering that Toriel left him as well was too much. Asgore slumped back into his chair, cradling his head in his hands and weeping freely now. He couldn’t say for how long he sat there, miserable and crying. He didn’t even hear the knock on the door the first time.

It was a gentle knock, as if someone was rapping at the door with a rock instead of a fist. The second attempt was more forceful, and finally drew Asgore’s attention. He called out through the archway, “Err-ah, one moment please!” He quickly dried the photograph album one more time before slamming the cover shut.

“Hey, take your time,” replied the monster waiting at the door. Asgore quickly examined the room; teacups lied cluttered on the floor, next to his reading chair, on the dining room table and one even managed to find its way onto the fireplace. He picked them all up hurriedly and deposited them into the sink, where empty and full pie tins were already taking up space. _How long have I been like this?_ It didn’t matter right now. If he had guests, he could offer… two cups of tea, perfect! He made a note to clean up the kitchen when they left and marched to the front door.

Just before opening, he straightened his sweater and checked his beard for any mess. Crumbs drifted out and littered the floor, and Asgore realised there were too many to get rid of right now. He kicked aside what had fallen out, then opened the front door slowly. Standing on the welcome mat was a short skeleton wearing a blue hoodie jacket and slippers. He recognised the skeleton immediately, though his name was harder to remember.

“Oh!” He was certainly surprised to see him here. “Howdy. It’s… Sans, isn’t it?”

“It sure is, Mr. Dad Guy.” Sans reached out his hand to shake Asgore’s, and Asgore made sure that he was gentle with the skeleton’s hand. He barely knew his own strength these days, and he’s rather not crush his guest’s bones. “…mind if I come in?” Sans asked.

“Of course, of course! Please make yourself at home.” Asgore stepped aside and waved Sans in, making sure to stand in front of the crumbs that he had just dropped from his beard. Sans stepped into the home and kicked off his slippers next to the door. He was wearing two old socks, clearly bigger than his actual foot size, but they didn’t seem to bother him. He made his way into the living room with Asgore in tow.

“Erm… no offence, Asgore, but…” Sans hesitated as he looked around the dimly lit room. The only source of light was the flames in the fire place, and they were beginning to peter out. He turned back to Asgore and locked a quizzical gaze on him, though his mouth never changed. He could just see that the king’s eyes were red and puffy, as if he had been crying recently. His beard was unkempt, with knots just visible here and there. “You kinda look like you’re going through hell.”

Asgore was silent. He couldn’t deny that he was; he had known about his depression ever since Toriel had left him, years and years ago, but he had not been in such a dark place for a very long time. “Yes,” he responded. “It does look like that, doesn’t it?” Asgore sniffled instinctively, then pardoned himself for the rude behaviour. Sans simply waved the apology away. “Would you like a cup of tea, Sans?” Any excuse to be out of the room from the skeleton, even for a moment, was welcomed right now.

“Nah, I’m not into tea that much,” Sans replied. He turned his head back to Asgore with a wink and finished, “it goes right through me.” Asgore snorted at the joke; he had not been expecting such a lame sense of humour, but sometimes you have to take whatever kind of enjoyment you can find. Sans chuckled as the king let him know what a terrible- and funny- comedian he was. Sans waited until he was finished before he continued. “Really though, I had another idea in mind.”

Asgore didn’t hide his curiosity; his head tilted to one side and he watched Sans expectantly. Sans reached behind his back and pulled out, seemingly from nowhere, six bottles of alcohol. “It’s magical beer, the good stuff,” he explained. “This stuff is good for skeletons, though it can pack a punch. Wanna try one?” Asgore was hesitant at the idea, but he couldn’t simply refuse a guest, could he? He nodded his head, thanked Sans for the bottle, twisted the lid off and took a swig.

_Clink._

“So, tell me Alphys, how did you come to be the Royal Scientist?” Toriel put the teacup back on the saucer and perched it on the edge of her arm rest.

_Clink._

Alphys sat across from her in the other armchair, while the entertainment robot Mettaton sat in a dining room chair next to his friend. He put the teacup down and held the saucer in his lap.

_Clinkclinkclinkclinkclinkclink._

 Alphys’ teacup shaky hands tried to hold her teacup steady on the saucer with no luck. She elected to lean over and put the cup and saucer at her feet before explaining.

“W-well, it’s kind of a long story, Y-Your Majesty.”

Toriel cut her off there. “Please, there is no need for such formalities. I stopped being the queen a long time ago.” She folded her hands into her lap and stared wistfully into the fireplace, where a great flame roared and filled the room with bright light and a gentle warmth.

“R-right, sorry about that,” Alphys stammered. She couldn’t tell if she was nervous because of her mistake, or because of her anxiety in general, or because she was waiting for a very important phone call. “Um, sh-should I just call you… Toriel?” She paused before saying her name, focusing on not stuttering as she said it. Mettaton smiled and nodded towards her, a sign of congratulations for her effort that he had clearly noticed.

“Yes please,” Toriel answered, bringing her attention back to the scientist. “I am only a caretaker now, therefore the name Toriel will do me just fine.” She picked up the cup of tea and took another sip. The golden flavour ran down her throat and filled her with more warmth than the fire radiated.

She had found it a bit peculiar that Alphys and Mettaton had requested golden flower tea, which just so happened to be Asgore’s favourite. Of course, she kept some in stock in her pantry at all ties, but very rarely did she make herself a pot of golden flower tea. Still, she waved it off as personal preference and poured three cups of tea for her and her guests.

“Right, s-so um…” Alphys brought the conversation back on track and prepared to tell the story of how she had become Asgore’s for the entire Underground. “You see, wh-when I was-”

Alphys was interrupted by a phone ringing. She stopped speaking and stared at Toriel. Mettaton raised his eyebrows over his cup of tea. Toriel looked back at them both in confusion. The phone rang again, and again, and suddenly she realised that the noise was coming from her pocket. She had owned the cell phone for some time now, but she rarely had any need to be in contact with anyone. She pulled out the cell phone and examined the screen.

It was Asgore Dreemurr.

She pocketed the cell phone and let it ring out. She let out a frustrated sigh and spoke again. “I beg your pardon for that interruption.” Mettaton smiled politely and lowered his teacup to his lap. Alphys leaned over and picked her cup up again, her hands shaking slightly less than they had before but still enough to make her cup clink quickly on the saucer.

“Th-that’s alright!” Alphys was a bit louder than she needed to be; she had practically shouted at Toriel, who now looked at her in shock. Alphys quietly excused herself and took a sip of tea. “U-um, if it’s not too much to ask, who was c-calling you?”

Toriel lowered and shook her head. “No one of import, child.” She looked back up with a pleasant face. “Please, continue your story.” She drank her tea quietly, giving Alphys a chance to regroup.

“Right, of course! Where was I?”

“At the beginning,” Mettaton offered quietly. Alphys shot him a glare, but Mettaton was already having more tea, his eyes closed in quiet contemplation.

“Okay. S-so when I was- “

The cell phone rang again, cutting Alphys off for the second time. Toriel’s face dropped from pleasant to frustrated, her smile replaced with a tired scowl. She lifted her phone from her pocket and looked at the caller’s name, already sure of what she would see.

Asgore Dreemurr again. “Excuse me for a moment, dears.” She lifted herself up and walked into the kitchen to take the phone call. She answered on the final ring and hissed into the speaker quietly, trying to keep the conversation away from prying ears. “What do you want, Asgore.” It was more of a threat than a question. The voice on the other end took her by surprise.

“Heeeeey, Tori!”

“Sans?!” In the living room, Alphys’ and Mettaton’s eyes shot to one another as they quietly sipped their tea in sync.

“Of coursh you would recognise my voice, we shpoke to eash other through a door for a while, huh?” Sans’ speech was slurred, and Toriel could hardly believe what she was hearing.

“Sans, are you drunk?!” Then she heard another voice in the background, close to Sans.

“You spoke to Toriel-hic! Through a door?”

“Sans, did you get Asgore drunk?!”

“Okay, everyone settle down, there’s toooo many queshtions. One at a time, please. Lady’s first, Tori.”

Toriel was absolutely furious and no longer cared to constrain her voice to a whisper. “Sans, tell me exactly what is going on this instant.” Her voice was cold and authoritative. On the other end of the line, she was sure she could hear Sans make a noise like a gulp, and when he spoke he sounded just a bit soberer than before.

“Alright, here’s the story, Tori.” He snickered for a moment, and Toriel could hear Asgore in the background holding back laughter. “I... came over to see Asgore.” He paused for a moment, and Toriel lifted her eyebrows as if Sans could see that she was not convinced. Even if he couldn’t see her expression, he could feel it through her silence. “With some drinks,” he added. “…strong drinks.”

“And what was the purpose of this visit?”

“Uhhhh… to get to know the big guy?” Sans didn’t sound too sure of himself. He was hiding something.

“Why else, Sans?” She was growing angrier by the second.

“Ummmm… oh hey, Asgore wants to speak to you! Play nice you two.” And with that, Toriel heard a rustling through the speaker of her phone as Asgore’s phone was handed back to him. He cleared his throat for a moment, took in a deep breath and braced himself.

“Howd-

“What do you want, Asgore?”

“…dy.” He took a few moments to formulate what he wanted to say, but Toriel’s patience was growing thin. “Um, h-how is Frisk going?”

“Frisk is asleep, in their bedroom right now. They have been well.” She was surprised to hear him ask about the human child, but she suspected that was only a random question to give him a bit more time.

“That’s good!” Asgore sounded very positive, but Toriel only found it to be grating on her already waning patience. She waited for Asgore to say something else, and just when she was about to hang up on him, she heard Sans whispering something close to Asgore’s ear. Asgore suddenly remembered what he was going to say and started again.

“So Toriel… I was thinking that. Well. We have a lot of thoughts that don’t really, you know, line up right now? So, I was thinking…” He paused to breathe, letting his nerves out with his breath. “Would you like to go out for dinner some time?”

“No.” _Beep._

Toriel had only felt this disgusted once before, when she had left Asgore in the first place. It was a feeling that she felt often in her nightmares, one of complete shame and disappointment, and of having to accept what a terrible man Asgore had become. _He tried to ask me out on a date? After everything I have been through?!_

Suddenly she remembered her guests in the living room. She inhaled deeply, smoothed out her features and put on a quiet smile, exhaled coolly and walked back into the living room. “I’m sorry for that spectacle,” she apologised. “I believe I let my anger get the best of me.”

Alphys smiled nervously, holding her teacup towards Toriel as if she were cheering for her. Mettaton, however, regarded her with curiosity. “That’s alright, Toriel,” he said, his words chosen carefully. “I wouldn’t have imagined that a phone call from the king would make many monsters angry, though.”

Toriel looked at him with a curious look of her own. “No,” she agreed, “but not many monsters have had the same experiences with the king that I have, dear.” She was confident that that would shut down the robot’s topic of conversation, however she found herself a bit aggravated when he pressed on.

“That sounded like a very terse dismissal at the end, there. Did he ask something of you before you hung up on him?” He knew he was pushing a bit too hard now, but he was always careful with his words. He could tell that Toriel was too polite to ask him to stop.

“I don’t think you want to hear about the personal problems of an old lady, my child.” Toriel seemed sincere, her voice sounding like honey. “They are old issues that I would rather- “

“We would!” Toriel and Mettaton both looked down at Alphys, now shrinking into her chair. “I-I mean… we would like to h-hear, about them. M-maybe we could help?” Alphys sounded as unsure at her idea as Sans had sounded with his reasons for meeting Asgore. If Toriel had been a bit more sceptical, she might have felt that there was something going on without her knowledge, but for now her head was swimming with troubling thoughts.

She dragged out a deep sigh, drained the rest of her teacup and placed it on the floor next to her chair. “Alright then,” she said with heavy resignation. “I can see that you would rather hear about me, then.” Mettaton nodded, while Alphys shrank further into her chair. Toriel noticed that her teacup was already back on the ground.

“It would seem,” Toriel began, “that Asgore and I have… a different understanding of history. I exiled myself when Asgore made a most wicked decision. Grief had stricken us both, but Asgore had lost his senses in a blood-rage, and vowed to kill any human that fell from the surface world. I could not handle living with such a man for a moment longer, and so I left him to his wicked deeds.

“Over the years, I have taken care of these ruins, as a caretaker should. I have looked after every human that fell, doing my best to protect them from Asgore. When the second human fell… she was a lovely young girl. Very intelligent, and very understanding of the circumstances. Her name was… Cynthia.”

Alphys and Mettaton were enraptured in Toriel’s recount of her life, but both of them shared the same thought. _She doesn’t know what Asgore did. She doesn’t know what any of the humans did._

“And while her patience was truly beyond her years, she knew that she could not stay with me forever. She was a very sick girl, you see. She only had so much time to live, and not even I could heal the sickness that would eventually claim her. She insisted, at least once a day, to leave the ruins. She wanted to see the Underground, and she even had the delusion that she could convince Asgore to turn away from his warpath…” She stopped there, eyes glazing over as she looked down into her open hands on her lap.

Mettaton leaned forward, just a bit, and spoke softly. “Toriel… she did do that.”

Toriel’s head snapped up to meet his gaze. Her face was scrunched up, completely cynical. She looked over to Alphys, who nodded slowly in agreement. Toriel’s face softened, and a dark realisation crossed over her face. Her world was shattering around her, and Alphys and Mettaton were witnessing it in her face. But before she lost herself to dismay, Toriel cleared her throat, straightened her back and sat up, instantly the image of a queen on her throne.

Her only words were spoken quietly. “I see…” She wanted to appear peaceful, but Toriel’s guests could see that she was not the same monster from a moment ago. Mettaton leaned back into his chair and spoke again, with a bit more intrigue in his voice now.

“Perhaps… you should take the king up on his offer?” Toriel looked at him, a brief moment of disgust creasing around her face. But as quickly as it had contorted her face, the expression was gone, and Toriel could not look Mettaton in the eyes. She looked back down to her lap and pulled the cell phone out of her pocket.

She hated Asgore. She truly did. But why did she hate him anymore? Was all of it based on her own stubbornness, and her failure to protect the humans that fell from the surface? She had sent each of them into the world and never spoken to them again. She didn’t know the truth about what had happened to each of them, only that they were dead now. Could she really trust Mettaton and Alphys, and were they telling the truth? There were too many thoughts, too many possibilities to understand all at once.

“It’s just a date.” Alphys piped up as she spoke, though Toriel didn’t look away from the phone. “I m-mean,” Alphys continued, “where’s the h-harm?”

“That’s true,” Mettaton affirmed. “Perhaps you aren’t ready to forgive him yet. But what’s wrong with starting again?”

Toriel looked up, her eyes glistening with tears about to spill down her cheeks. “What if I am to blame?” Her voice was quivering, though her face didn’t betray her feelings. “What if it is all my fault that they died?” Alphys and Mettaton looked to one another, then back to Toriel, both leaning towards her. Mettaton placed a hand on her lap.

“Toriel, no one is to blame for what happened. And either way, the king will forgive you. After all, he is the one that invited you to dinner, isn’t he?” Toriel looked at the metal hand on her lap, then down to her phone. Mettaton sat back as Toriel lifted the phone up, found Asgore’s phone number and hit dial.

There was a silence in the living room, save for the dial tone. Toriel shook her head suddenly, no longer confident enough to talk. Alphys gave two thumbs up, while Mettaton smiled sweetly. “You can do it,” he whispered, before sticking his own thumbs up with Alphys. Toriel sniffled once and nodded, still not sure what she was going to say if Asgore-

_Click._

“…Toriel?”

“Asgore…”

There was more silence on the line, before Asgore spoke up. “How can I help you?”

Toriel was not sure how to respond. She was usually well-spoken, but now every word but two had escaped her. The first word was sorry. The second word was “…dinner.”

Asgore sounded confused for a moment. “Dinner?” Then he gasped as he understood what she was saying. “Toriel, if it would please you, I would like to take you out for dinner.” She could not tell that he had been drinking tonight; he sounded just as he had so many years ago. She nodded, then realised she had to speak again.

“Yes,” she confirmed. Then she added “it would please me.” She sniffled again, still struggling to contain her emotions. She could hardly believe that she was going through with this, not to mention what Alphys and Mettaton had just told her about the humans…

“Is everything alright?” The voice was Asgore’s. She did not know what to say. All her confidence, what little of it she had summed up, was fleeing rapidly. She could not talk to Asgore right now, not anymore.

“I will see you soon, good evening.” She hung up on Asgore for the second time, and tried her hardest not to cry. The tears that had threatened to fall finally streaked into her fur. She dropped the phone into her lap, hunched over and laid her head in her hands. “What have I done?” She sobbed quietly, but Alphys and Mettaton were quick to her side.

“You’ve done something wonderful, darling,” Mettaton cooed.

Alphys kneeled next to the armchair. “Y-you were very brave, Toriel! Braver than me…” As easy as it was for Alphys to fall into self-pity, she knew that now was not the time. Her tail wagged just a bit as she lifted her head back up and smiled.

Toriel looked to her left and right, bewildered by the support. She had barely met these two before- in fact, she had never met them in person before! Yet here they were, ready to pick her back up without hesitation. She sniffled and looked Alphys in the eyes.

“But…” she whimpered. “A date? Did I truly agree to go on a date with Asgore?”

“Th-th-that’s right.”

“But I- I don’t know when it will be, I hung up on him too soon! An-and I don’t have anything to wear, and-”

Mettaton placed his hand back on Toriel’s lap. “Toriel, darling, please relax.” She looked into his face, finally holding tears back from streaking further through her fur. “Alphys and I can talk to the king to sort out the details. And as for something to wear…” Mettaton brushed his hair up and let it fall back into place exactly where it already was. “Leave that all to me! I’ll find you a dress that will make Asgore lose himself completely!”

“No!” Toriel’s voice was shriller than she had intended. “Please, I don’t want anything like that! Just…” She considered her ideas for a moment. “Just something that looks nice. Nothing too extravagant.”

“Of course, darling,” Mettaton accepted. “Nothing too extravagant.” Alphys shot him a quick glare, already aware that anything that Mettaton touched became extravagant. He merely smiled back sincerely, even though Alphys saw it as cocky.

Toriel sniffled again, and wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “To both of you.” She put one hand on Mettaton’s, and offered for Alphys to put her hand out as well. Alphys extended her hand and gripped Toriel, and suddenly her hand felt warmer than her tail so close to the fire.

“A-any time,” Alphys whispered. She was glad that things were going to plan. She was glad that Mettaton was around to convince Toriel. She was sure that Asgore would finally be out of his depressive slump now. But the next time that she saw Sans, she would have to give him an earful about getting so drunk while trying to get the king and queen back together!


End file.
